


Apples of Gold

by hiraeth



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cults, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraeth/pseuds/hiraeth
Summary: I saw a prompt on a writing blog I follow that asked, "Which OC starts the snowball fight?" And then this happened.The title comes from a quick google search for Bible verses that mention snow. I could not think of anything to call it.This fic is meant to be a lighthearted and silly sketch involving my characters, but as the tag mentions, there are brief implications of physical abuse as well as a reference to punishment scattered throughout the story.For those who are not familiar: Nicolas is a character in my story who, against his will, becomes a member of a cult. He is given the name Volans. He and Orion share a room together. Orion, in contrast, was born into the cult, and has never been outside of it. Nicolas (Volans) is their only exposure to anything from the outside world. Orion is nonbinary and goes by they/them pronouns.





	Apples of Gold

Orion was leaving the chicken coop and returning to the temple proper when they were hit in the back.

It had not hurt, but the force and unexpected quality of it was not unlike the blow from a fist. They froze, anticipating more, wondering what it was they had done to cause this. A multitude of possible transgressions, though mostly small and insignificant, appeared in their mind. When no more blows came, however, Orion chanced a look around themselves. First upward, always upward, toward the sky. It was a thick blanket of gray, as usual. Then they looked around, behind, down. They turned about in place but found nothing out of the ordinary. Some other disciples were working in the yard and field nearby, each attending to their own tasks. Even Volans was busy clearing snow off the low stone walls of the animal pens.

Snow crunched beneath Orion's cloth-wrapped feet as they shifted their weight, unsure of what to do. White clouds of their breath puffed around their head. After minutes of consideration, Orion decided whatever it was could not have been that serious if it didn’t happen again. They turned to resume heading back inside.

And then it happened again.

The painless blow found its mark on Orion’s hip this time. They inspected the area and saw it to be covered in snow. Baffled, Orion frowned and looked around again. Only Volans was nearby; all other disciples had moved further out, or away to the rest of their chores, as Orion should have done. But such an unusual event, they thought, required investigation.

They were loathe to seek answers from Volans, who still knew very little of anything that went on at the temple. Orion would have preferred to ask someone as sensible and level-headed as Lyra, or even dare to bring it up with Father Engel himself - but neither of them had seen what had happened. At any rate, Orion could ask them or anyone else after speaking with Volans first. They grimaced to themselves, top lip black and curling up to reveal some of their missing teeth. They made no attempt to relax their expression and approached their fellow disciple.

–

Nicolas curled his lips over his teeth in effort to prevent himself from bursting into laughter. When Orion started walking towards him, it was all he could do just to force down his mirth into what he hoped was a casual smile.

Orion’s intense gaze bored into Nicolas. They had stopped a few feet away; Nicolas was unsure if they wanted to keep their distance because they did not like him, or so that they wouldn’t have to crane their neck up as far to meet his eyes. It was probably a combination of both.

“Volans,” Orion hissed. Nicolas raised his eyebrows and cocked his head innocently. He wasn’t sure if he could manage speech at the moment.

“I doubt you have any idea what is going on; even at present you appear not to be doing anything useful.” Without moving their head they eyed the mess of snow Nicolas had been scraping up, leaving behind finger-sized troughs. Orion’s wide eyes returned to meet Nicolas. “But perhaps you may have seen something happen.”

“Oh?” Nicolas struggled to keep his voice light. It helped that Orion was so unsettling to talk to face to face. Nicolas thought he might make it without cracking, until Orion turned to the side.

“There is snow, here,” they said, pointing to their hip. “And, I would expect, some on my back as well, around here.” Now fully turned around, they brought an arm up and gestured to a burst of white powder square between their shoulder blades. “I do not know what could have possibly happened,” Orion began, shifting their feet, about to turn back around. Nicolas acted quickly, scooping up more snow and spending barely more than a second packing it together before tossing it where Orion pointed.

Orion whipped their body around, head up with a stunned expression. They looked at Nicolas’ fingers, red and dripping with melting snow. Their brow furrowed. “You-”

Nicolas cackled. He bent over, hands braced on the surface of the stone wall.

“You were throwing snow at me.”

Nicolas nodded wordlessly, struggling to catch his breath between laughs.

“Neither I, nor anything else, am something you need to throw snow at,” Orion said matter-of-factly. “You brush it off the walls, doorways, and steps, or you clear a footpath with the shovel.“ Orion tried to catch Nicolas’ eyes; Nicolas had to keep rubbing them to wipe his tears away. His stomach convulsed in residual giggles.

“Volans,” Orion insisted.

“Yes, yes,” Nicolas said. His cheeks hurt from laughing, and his mouth was stuck in smile that stretched wide across his face.

“Repeat to me what it is you are to do with snow. I need to know you understand. I am afraid your incompetency might be a sign of a deeper issue.”

Nicolas straightened. “Alright, alright.” He counted off on his fingers. “I clear snow off the doorways, walls, and steps, and form it into a pile, like so.”

“No.”

“I gather it in my hands-”

“No.”

“-and loosely pack it into a ball, just enough so it sticks together, and it looks like this.” He held the snowball out to show Orion.

Orion’s jaw clenched and they gnashed their teeth together, lips raised in a snarl. Their fingers stiffened into a semblance of claws. Rage boiled just beneath the surface of their skin. In a flash of impulsivity they snatched the snowball from Nicolas’ outstretched palm and flung it at him. Physically weak and unpracticed at throwing as they were, it just barely hit the side of Nicolas' thigh. Nicolas' grin stretched wider. Orion looked mortified at what they had done. They turned around and marched back towards the temple. Nicolas abandoned his unfinished chore and followed after.

“You are a fool. I am a fool,” Orion muttered.

“Yes.”

“I will have to bring this up at confession tomorrow.”

Nicolas paused. Part of him feared genuine repercussions for dallying while he was supposed to be working. The other part of him decided anything would be worth it to hear Orion gravely admit, in front of every member of the group, to harmlessly throwing a handful of snow at Nicolas.

“You will. You can’t keep this a secret.”

Orion turned and glared up at him. “What are you doing, following me? I have work to do. You have work to do, and you must do it properly this time. Leave me be, lest you corrupt me further.”

“There’s nothing you can do about that. The corruption’s already spread. It’s all over you.“ Nicolas brushed the snow off Orion’s robe. “Oh, it’s gone now.”

Orion batted Nicolas’ hands away and stepped over the threshold of the temple’s side door. Nicolas leaned against it.

“I’ll see you at dinner, then,” he said before Orion got too far.

“You will not. I will not sit next to you.”

“Then I’ll see you in our room before bed,” he called out.

“I will avert my eyes,“ Orion’s voice echoed faintly.

–

True to their word, Orion spared not one glance at Volans for the rest of the night. When they had both settled onto their pallets to sleep, a soft chuckle emerged in the darkness from Volans’ side of the room. Orion took a deep breath and rolled from their back onto their stomach, burying their face into the cushion. In the privacy granted from the cell's complete lack of light, Volans’ joviality felt almost contagious. The corner of Orion’s mouth tugged upward and they bit their lip to hide a smile


End file.
